


A Court of Foxes

by maddierose



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angry Sex, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hate Sex, Lust at First Sight, Mates, Political Alliances, Secret Relationship, Shameless Smut, The Autumn Court (ACoTaR), The Spring Court (ACoTaR)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:15:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29533932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddierose/pseuds/maddierose
Summary: Under the guise of atoning for Tamlin's sins, his sister Azalea is sent to spy in the Autumn Court. She would do anything to achieve her goals, except seduce Beron's mercurial heir, Eris. She plays a very dangerous game, especially when the line between loathing and lust is so thin.
Relationships: Eris Vanserra/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	A Court of Foxes

If there was one thing that was consistent in Azalea’s life, it was fixing the fuck-ups that her older brother Tamlin created. The fact that he was barely able to rule the Spring Court was the latest, and most tedious, in a long line. She managed Tamlin’s affairs with grace and maturity, though she found herself with cause for concern when Lucien asked to speak with her in the late hours of the night. Her brother’s friend never asked to see her at such an hour.

Anxiety ate away at Azalea. Was there something she was doing wrong? Lucien had been a part of the Spring Court since she had been young. Azalea had been born after the War, only a handful of years before her parents and older brothers had been slaughtered. She had practically been raised by Tamlin, and once they would have given her cause to idolise him. Instead, that reverence had bled into frustration at his inability to take ownership of his actions, leading to Azalea being the de facto ruler of the court.

“This had better be important, Lucien.” Azalea strode into the room, a breeze of golden blonde hair and loose robes. Once, many years ago, she had been starry-eyed over Lucien. Perhaps it had been knowing that she couldn’t have him because he was her brother’s best friend. Over time, that admiration had eroded as well.

“It is.” Lucien’s expression was grim, apprehension and determination battling across his features as he turned from the hearth. “Tamlin’s relationships with the other courts are, to be honest, fucked.”

“Trust me, I’m aware.” Azalea swept around the desk to uncork a bottle of mead and pour it into one of the crystal glasses readily available. She had been drinking more since she’d been forced to take over for her brother as well, something that Lucien had noted with an arched eyebrow many a time. She lifted the glass to her lips and let the sweet taste wash over her tongue.

“I hate to be the one to suggest this…” Lucien muttered, raking a hand through his auburn hair. His reluctance gave Azalea reason for pause as she wondered precisely what the male had in mind.

“Lucien. Don’t be enigmatic.”

“We need to cement our relationships with the courts.” Lucien swivelled back to face her, lips twisting. “Tamlin isn’t able to do that at the moment. The most dangerous, and therefore the most important, is the Autumn Court.”

Azalea lapsed into silence. Lucien was from the Autumn Court. He’d fled it many years before, escaping a cruel father who had murdered his lover, escaping his deranged brothers. Azalea hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to any of the Autumn Court. She had been minding her own business, and her own estate, until she had been forced to return to her childhood home.

She had heard rumours of Beron Vanserra, oldest and cruellest of the High Lords. He was not a male to be crossed. Rumour had it that his eldest son Eris was just as sadistic. Lucien had told her, in confidence, that Beron’s allegiances were always shifting. There was every chance that he might try and stab the other courts in the back. 

“You want me to play the emissary.” The words dripped with disgust.

It wasn’t that the role didn’t suit her. Azalea had always been the consummate hostess, a ready smile on her lips and the sort of diplomacy that Tamlin didn’t always have the patience for. She was easy to get along with, and honeyed compliments flew from her tongue with practised proficiency. The Autumn Court though...that was an entirely different beast, and both she and Lucien knew it.

“I wouldn’t ask it of you if I did not think you up to the task, or believe it important.” Lucien folded his arms over her chest as Azalea exhaled a deep breath. He hated the Autumn Court and his family more than anyone else, so of course he wouldn’t suggest it as an offhand. Azalea set her glass down with a light clink, pinching the bridge of her nose. A court of foxes, Lucien had once called his childhood home.

“If that’s what you think is important, I need to know why.” Azalea poured herself some more mead. She guessed, with wry amusement, that she would probably need it. Lucien peered into the flames, and for a few moments there was an uneasy quiet between the pair of them.

“We don’t know what Beron is up to, but we don’t think it’s anything good.”

Azalea tilted her head to the side. “You expect me to sniff it out?”

Lucien shifted his feet uncomfortably, making Azalea’s body tense.

“It’s not Beron I think you’d manage to coax information out of.”

Azalea immediately caught his drift and was immediately incensed. Beron was a callous old shit, but what Lucien seemed to have in mind...

“No.” She shook her head fervently. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“I’m not telling you to seduce him,” Lucien said hurriedly, shaking his head fervently, “I just think that Eris would be more receptive to you than Beron.”

Much as Azalea seethed with indignation, she knew Lucien was right. Eris was a monster, but Azalea was as charming as he was terrifying. For all of his coldness, she would radiate warmth. She didn’t have to fuck a male to get him to trust her, and she certainly didn’t intend anything of that nature with Eris.

“What makes you think he would tell me anything?”

“You’re good with people.” Lucien folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the desk, the flames illuminating his face. “If you told the court tomorrow that you wanted to be the High Lady and banished Tamlin forever…”

A cold clutch of fear gripped her. “Don’t.”

“You know it’s the truth. You have a hold over people that Tamlin doesn’t, that few do. I know Eris well enough to say that I think you would...interest him.”

Azalea scowled. She wanted to be more than just something for Lucien’s oldest brother to lust over, and knowing how cruel Eris was, he may have little interest in her. But Lucien was right in saying that Azalea was good with people. Their strengths, their weaknesses, what made them tick. What made Eris Vanserra tick, she wondered against her better judgement.

“What am I meant to tell Beron and the others?” Azalea planted a hand on her hip. “They’re going to want to know why I’m there.”

“You’re young, you’ve seen little of the courts.” Lucien shrugged, a devious glimmer entering his expression. “Besides, if you’re spending time with Eris, Beron is guaranteed to believe your interest lies in securing him as a husband.”

Azalea shuddered. She could imagine nothing worse. Tamlin had hinted for some years now that she would do well to find herself a husband, but Azalea preferred her solitude. What need did she have for a male who would attempt to control every aspect of her life? No, she would remain running the Spring Court, as Tamlin could not.

“This had best not be a waste of my time, Lucien.”

She knew it wouldn’t be, not when her mission was so imperative and delicately handled. Instead, she was playing with fire in a court where flame was their speciality. Wasn’t she asking to get burned?

* * *

Lucien would not cross into the Autumn Court, and so Azalea made the journey alone. It was not an overly long or arduous journey, and once she had stated her business at the border, it was easy to make her way to Forest House. Disguising her trepidation under a mask of graciousness, Azalea was mildly affronted to learn that she would not be granted an audience with Beron until dinner. Instead, she was ushered into a guest chamber and left to her own devices.

Fortunately, the view of the sprawling expanse of forest beyond made up for the frankly undignified way in which Azalea had been received. After slipping out of her travelling cloak and pants and into a forest-green dress, her eyes scanned over the beauty of the Autumn Court. Forest House was nestled amidst trees that stretched toward the sky.

Sipping from her glass of water, Azalea sat on the windowsill and observed her surroundings. It was said that no one was permitted into Forest House unless Beron allowed it, so though he had palmed her off until dinner, he clearly was not against her being here. Lucien was not wrong in saying that Azalea had not widely travelled. She’d only left the Spring Court a handful of times, preferring home and the company of those she was familiar with.

“So the rumours are true.” An amused voice from the doorway made Azalea start, lurching to her feet at the unexpected intrusion. A tall red-haired man leaned in the doorframe, arms folded as he examined her. She didn’t miss the way his amber eyes lingered on her curves, and her eyes narrowed in response.

“I didn’t realise there were rumours about me already. Who are you?”

Her words were sharp, and she immediately regretted them. She was meant to be making a good impression, not snapping at whoever this male was who now strode languidly into her room. Azalea folded her arms over her chest and watched him warily. 

“You’re Tamlin’s sister.” His lips curved into a vicious smile. “A few of them talked about you, Under The Mountain. I once heard Dagdan say he wanted to know what you tasted like.”

Dagdan. The King of Hybern’s nephew. Azalea had never met the male, though unpleasant shivers crept up her spine at knowing he had spoken about her so crudely. The King of Hybern’s twin niece and nephew had been renowned for their bloodthirsty ways. Dagdan would have wanted to break her.

“Dagdan didn’t know me. My name is Azalea.”

“I’m aware.” His amber eyes blazed with some kind of feral delight that made her squirm under his gaze as he circled her like a predator observing his prey. She stood her ground, hands balled into fists, refusing to be intimidated.

“Are you going to tell me your name or not?” Azalea questioned impatiently.

“No guesses?” He cocked his head to the side, tutting in disapproval. “Come now. I’ve heard you’re cleverer than that.”

“Eris Vanserra,” she murmured. It had to be one of Beron’s sons, and which of them would be bold enough to come and assess her other than his eldest? The Autumn Court was cutthroat, with the High Lord’s heir earning his position based on merit rather than age. Yet Eris was still his father’s heir, which made him dangerous, which made him someone of note.

“I would commend you, but it was a little obvious.” Eris stood before her, clasping his hands behind his back. She supposed he was handsome, in an angular way. There was something lurking beneath the mask of civility, the sort of wildness that made her both wary of the mask and eager to rip it off.

No one had ever said that Azalea was careful.

“Is this some sort of test?” She placed her glass of water down, letting the slit in the side of her dress swish open as she moved. Eris’s eyes flicked to the movement, causing a smug smile to spread across Azalea’s face. “Are you here to make sure I’m worthy of dining with your father tonight?”

“I’m here because I don’t trust you.” Eris’s words were laced with quiet venom. “I want to know why you’re in the Autumn Court.”

Azalea’s heart hammered in her chest. She had been here hardly an hour and already Eris doubted her. This was not as easy as Lucien had inferred it would be. Silently fuming, she swallowed back her pride and assumed a deferential, unsuspecting expression.

“I am perfectly happy to explain myself to the High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

Sudden fire flickered in his eyes, terrifying and brief. It was gone in a moment, but Azalea knew she’d seen it. 

“I heard the claims that you’ve not seen many of the other courts, and that you’re attempting to smooth over Tamlin’s fuck-ups.”

“Yes. There are many, you see.”

“No doubt.” Eris’s expression was cool and indifferent. How quickly he could change. How much he hid, she thought. Azalea would dig beneath that mask and expose what lay beneath. She just feared what she might find there, under the surface of a monster. She wrapped her arms around herself, suppressing a shudder.

“Are you going to stay here and interrogate me until you get the answer you like?”

Why was she being so bold? She should be simpering before him, all smiles bright as the dawn and sweetness like honey. Perhaps Azalea was tired of being careful. Perhaps was challenging Eris to a dangerous game, one she wasn’t certain that she could win. At his astonished eyebrow arch, Azalea gathered her skirts and dipped into a curtsy.

“I forget my manners. I am so far from home, you see, and I hadn’t expected…”

“I don’t think you knew what to expect.” Eris smirked. “I think you still don’t, but never fear. If you want to make your explanations to my father, go right ahead.”

He turned and sauntered from the room, leaving Azalea to drop her skirts and straighten, a scowl immediately crossing her face. It was far too late to play the demure young female, because Eris had already seen right through her. He may not know why she had ventured to the Autumn Court, but Azalea suspected he intended to find out. 

She would be damned if she’d let him discover the truth. If Eris intended to play a game, she would rise to the challenge.


End file.
